


Challenge Week!

by novawrite



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Advice, American Sign Language, Black Mesa (Half-Life), Friendship, Gen, Mild Blood, Mute Gordon Freeman, Panic, Pre-Canon, Sign Language, can b interpreted as freehoun if you want tho, especially for half life, listen. i want more platonic wholesome stuff, yeah barney flunked college but ill be damned if he's not really good at giving advice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novawrite/pseuds/novawrite
Summary: doing a writing challenge for a week except i'm. definitely not gonna finish this in a week. oh well i'll post the chapters when theyre done. all oneshots, based on prompts.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun & Gordon Freeman
Kudos: 9





	Challenge Week!

**Author's Note:**

> so what if gordon freeman had similar stress triggers to me because why tf not lmao

Everything has a place to be and a purpose to fulfill, it's that simple. So why did nobody else seem to get it?

HR finds problems, scientists come up with solutions, security guards fix things with duct tape, and microwaves explode unprompted. See? everything has a job, and if anything does it's job wrong, bad things will happen to everyone. Living isn't a an every-man-for-himself battle, it's more like driving a car. Everyone is a working cog, and if you signal correctly and follow road safety laws you can help everyone else get where they need to go faster, including yourself. But if you're that one asshole who weaves and cuts people off, you'll likely end up angry and ultimately stuck at the same red light as the rest of us. Plus, you might get a speeding ticket. 

Gordon Freeman stuck to this ideology, helping others and in turn receiving help. At least that's how it _should_ work, but nobody else seems to think of that before driving a goddamned tank down the interstate. In this particular instance, the traffic law was such: If you're going to live in a shared building, wash your own damn dishes. Sounds easy enough, but apparently it was not, seeing the absolute mess of ceramic shrapnel on the Black Mesa dormitory shared kitchen floor. Using basic reasoning, it seemed as though people kept piling their dishes higher and higher in the sink, rendering it useless, until it inevitably tipped and crashed onto the floor, like the ending of a Jenga game from a janitor's nightmare. Gordon pushed his glasses back on his nose with an internal groan. Half of these people were _physicists_ for fuck's sake, himself included! 

What made matters worse somehow, was the fact that the majority of the people responsible for this catastrophe were prissy old men twice his age, who refused to take the fault of anything, let alone get their hands dirty cleaning up their own messes. Gordon highly preferred cleaning duty to a scolding and possible demotion from the human resources department, but loathed both options regardless. He could feel spite rising in his chest like bile, despite his best efforts. The physicist preferred to keep calm and find a logical solution to any given problem, but he was still a human, prone to impulsivity through generations of natural selection that kept his early ancestors alive. A wonder of evolution, but not exactly helpful in the current predicament.

Gritting his teeth, Gordon kneeled down and began collecting the bigger pieces of ceramic, setting them up on the table. At least it's better than college, when most others opted to buy those cheap paper plates that hot food melted straight through. He laughed to himself, recalling what he and Barney referred to as the Spaghetti Incident. God, had it really been that long since MIT? It feels like he was helping Barney cheat on tests just days ago. 

It almost seemed like thinking about his friend summoned him, seeing as said Barney Calhoun turned the corner into the kitchen just then. For a moment he seemed to not even notice the disaster before him, turning to open the cupboard before pausing, then turning to look at the mess, then at Gordon. He looked shocked for a moment, before cracking a smile and bursting into laughter. He actually had to grab the counter to stop from sinking to the floor, still wheezing. Gordon groaned. After a minute, the security guard regained composure somewhat, looking a mildly annoyed Gordon in the eyes as he spoke. 

"Boy you fucked up, huh?" 

He started laughing again, and Gordon glowered at him. 

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT" He signed, facing his palms and center fingers to his shoulders and making an outwards fanning motion. Barney grinned. 

"Yeah, figured as much. Your face was funny though." He walked over, surveying the hellscape that was once a kitchen floor. 

"So. Who _did_ fuck up?"

"They did," Gordon pointed in the direction of the dorms, circling with his pointer finger. Barney looked over, sighing. "Old jerks." Gordon agreed, tapping his fist to the side of his head with his thumb out. The scientist didn't even realize how hard he was gripping a shard of glass in his other hand until he lifted it to speak again, shocked when it stung and bled as he opened his palm. Barney peered over and hissed through his teeth. "You might wanna go patch that up." Gordon glared and signed again with his good hand. "Not now. I'm gonna clean this up first." He pointed to himself before signing the lexicalization for 'FIX'. But for as stubborn as he was, he knew Barney had the willpower of a bull when he wanted to. "No, you're not. You're gonna get blood on everything, dumbass." Gordon promptly chose to ignore the previous statement, dropping the shard into the pile and reaching for another. His hand was quickly swatted away.

"C'mon, you're the scientist here, isn't this like- a biohazard or something?"

Fuck, it was. Barney raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Thought so." He looked back at the situation. "Look, I'm gonna go get some paper towels, and you're gonna go get a band-aid. Capiche?" Gordon rolled his eyes and nodded. For an alien obsessed dork who flunked college, his friend was...frustratingly rational. Even when he failed, Gordon was more upset about it than him. He vividly remembered Barney just smiling, saying "Look, either you finish or you don't, and I didn't. Nothing to do about it, so no reason to be upset." After, he immediately started looking for non-academic jobs at the same laboratory that Gordon got the job at, settling for security guard when the physicist insisted against a high radiation heavy lifting job. 

Maybe that's another way to look at things. Maybe if you do everything right and still get fined instead of the guy in the tank, there's no real reason to be upset after it's said and done. It may be unfair, but it's not like you can go back in time and fix it, so why not just keep driving? Busy caught up in analogies, Gordon didn't even notice himself spacing out until he felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up and meet Barney's eyes. Gordon smiled at him, before pulling himself up to standing, offering a hand to his friend. The friend accepted his hand, relying on it to lift himself up and nearly pulling Gordon back down in the process, likely on purpose. He walked to the door, turning around in the doorframe just before he left. "Remember Gordon: Have a very safe day!" He said in a mimic of the tram speaker that droned into their heads every day. Gordon snorted, once again rolling his eyes. Barney only gave a put-on wink and grin as he walked away, disappearing past the doorframe and out of sight.

Gordon sighed. What a dork.


End file.
